



Ifispirfeci 

Poems 



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Class _Ai 






COPYRIGHT DEPOSrR 













No longer men are the dupes of kings. 
And titles now are empty things. 
Of power shorn. 



The Vision. 



/^ 






\? 



Copyright, 1917, by 
Charles L. H. Wagner 



CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 

HUNTINGTON ART PRES! 

1917 

DEC -8 1917 



©C1,A4779:H 



This book is Inscribed to 
MR. EDWIN F. EDGETT 
Literary Editor of the Boston 
Transcript, whose kind offices 
and helpful words have so often 
encouraged and heartened me 
in my literary efforts. i*«? in^ 

Charles L. H. Wagner. 



To the Reader : 

I offer no apology for these verses. They may or 
may not appeal. They are the product of the times. 
The fruit of spontaneous, responsive thought on 
the events of the moment, with the one ideal 
uppermost in the writer's mind, — the ultimate 
federation of the world and the fellowship of ALL 
nations. God speed the day I 

The Author 



PAGE 

Look to the End 13 

The Retinues 15 

The Glory and Shame of God ... 19 

The Hypocrite 21 

The Makers of War 23 

An Apostrophe to the Year 1917 . . 25 

The Vision 27 

The Yellow Cloud 31 

A Handful of Meal 35 

Where is the Man? 4-1 

Necessity 4-3 

The Voices of My Soul .... 45 

Think on Empires 49 

The Peace of the Hun .... 51 

Watch Out, O Land o' Mine ... 53 

My Country 55 

The Sky is Awake 57 

The Unfolding Will 59 

Build Me a Lodge 61 

True Patriotism 63 

No Man's Land 65 

O Lady of the Snows .... 67 

The Bravest Man 69 

Our Flag 71 



Honk t0 tl|f lEnb 



T/ze sinking of the Lusitania by a German submarine prompted 
this poem. 



^1 HE German Empire is no more, 
'l The hand that struck unseen 



® 



An ocean's ruling queen, 
Has stricken hearts of milHons more 
Than sank in waters green, 
Cursed be that hand unseen ! 

The Emperor of Hate has smiled, 

And in his smile he lost 

What centuries have cost, 
The reverence born to German child, 

A people's love embossed 

On Union's shield; — yes, lost! 

Oh, we whose veins })rove Teuton sires, 

Who heretofore were proud 

Of German traits endowed, 
Must grasp Hate's fagot's from War's fires, 

And hide its deeds with shroud, 

O, God! — and we've been proud! 



Page Thirteen 1 



®I|0 ISrttnura 



^/^IKE a bolt from out the sky, 
itj With its vivid, blinding flash, 

Like the thunder's grinding crash, 
Like the wind-waves on the rye. 
On the shimmering, ghostly wrings 
Of the man-birds of the air. 
With the bombast and the flare 
Of the iron hulls of kings. 
So came War. 

Like the frightened mew-guU's flight. 
Rising swift with startled cries. 
As the circled w^hite moon dies 
In the cloud-black depths of night, 
'Midst the dirges of the weak 
And the fear-doubts of the strong, 
'Midst the vaunt of martial song 
And the sword blade's cut-air shriek. 
So fled Peace. 

Followed each a retinue, 
War, the mightj^ proudly stalked, 
Close-heeled by the hosts who walked 
Liveried in sombre hue 



Page Fifteen] 



Of the Grand Duke Death, the grave, 
Goaded by Wrong's fancied stings 
And by bravura of kings. 
Honest hosts, 3^et withal slaves, 
Slaves of War. 

Like the vultures of the plain. 
Tagging on, and grasping tight. 
Came the spectres of War's night. 
Chortling o'er their toll of slain ; 
Full accoutred, Famine rode, 
Pestilence ranged to and fro. 
Poverty, like carrion crow, 
Ate the seeds that Peace had sowed, 
Seeds of Love. 

Such a retinue had War. 
Peace, the passive, when she fled. 
Marched with Progress straight ahead 
To the realms of Future Law. 
Justice rode on jewelled seat. 
Wealth and Honor marked the way. 
Industry linked hands with Play, 
Hope, victorious o'er defeat. 
Ensigns bore. 

When the War-clouds have been rent, 
When Love's seeds once more take root 
And the blood -riched ground bears fruit. 
When the strength of Might is spent, 



[ Page Sixteen 



When a sane world, now o'erthrown 
By grim War and retinue, 
Holds its futile ends in view. 
Then shall Peace come to its own 
And for aye. 



Page Seventeen] 



(lil|f O^lory unh S>l|amr of (^ah 



/g^OD created man. He breathed into the mould 
\l^ His sacred breath, and from the base arose 

A prodigy of earth ! Supreme o'er finite things 
And heir to infinite. Creative power He gave 
In all save life. As dv^^elling place He loaned 
The gem of all His millioned stars, 
He bade man live; — live, and joy in life; 
Man w^as the glory of God ! 

God created man. The power He gave to clay 
Grew insolent and arrogated all to self; 
Denied the right to create life, man joyed 
And revelled in destruction's fearful might. 
He killed, 3^et not content with slaughter of the brute, 
The instruments of death he hurled upon his kind 
For fancied v^rongs. The Universe sheds tears. 
Man is the shame of God! 



Page Nineteen] 



J 



QIl|r %|i0rrttp 



Thus Spake the Hypocrite : 

^4, '71 DID not seek this thing, 'twas thrust upon 
My meek and lowly self, Oh foul the deed ! 
Here lie my hero dead, for me they died. 
Nor questioned why, and all because of those 
Who, like a host of vandals seeking prey. 
Sought to destroy and lay our land to waste. 
Rude, lustful men, not knowing kultur's pride. 
Deaf to the mandates from my august throne 
Prompted by Love, with none of War's desire. 
Which, if obeyed, would make this mundane world 
Utopia for all." 

The Poet Deigns Reply : 

'*0, base, unworthy wearer of thine ermine robes, 

Thy acts belie thy weak and supine words. 

Were twenty years of ceaseless, studied toil 

To hoard the garnered crops that Death had sown 

For naught but love? Was it for this you heaped 

A golden minted store, and builded vast 

And mighty arsenals where molten steel 

Ran like the freshet brooks in moulds of Hell? 

Was it for Love thy banquet toasts were made 

Page Twenty-one] 



To that e'er Hearing and designed-for ' Day ' ? 
Was Love the prompter when thy men prepared 
With thy consent the noxious, poisoned gas 
To blast and kill? Was this all done for naught? 
Go, shed thy tears, — the whirlwinds sown of yore 
Have gathered force, and even now o'er whelm 
And frighten thee. I would not change my place, 
My humble lodge, a poet's frugal life 
For all the vast estates and honors thine 
Were consciences to be exchanged, and hearts, 
I sing of Love, not hate, save to th}- kind. 
Thou hypocrite! " 



[Page Twenty -two 



ii«|e iiakrra nf Mar 



/|^H, to be able to say it, so that all might 
XJj/ understand, 

The Makers of War are the rulers of men who 
trust in the mailed hand ; 
For their nation's will is a man's will, and their 

people are not free, 
When they bare the sword to the world, my friend, 

it affects both you and me ; 
Yes it does! — Both you and me! 

Oh, I heard the songs from the gifted Noyes, ere he 

left for another shore. 
And I heard him sing of blood and war, till my 

soul cried out "No more!" 
And I thought of old Leige's ooze and gore, and 

then of a nation's shame. 
And I looked for the cause, and I found it, friend, — 

one breaker of faith was to blame. 
Yes, — one breaker of faith was to blame! 

Oh, rotten the soul that guages itself by measures 

of silver and gold, 
Yes, Mone3''s behind every motive and act when 

Honor is broke in its mould 

Page Twenty-three] 



And the War-lords pledge their people's souls, and 

your soul, my friend, and mine 
Are bartered away in their halls of state, then 

Wine-presses burst with the wine. 
And Honor's a sop to the wine ! 

Oh, to be able to say it, so that all might under- 
stand, 

The Makers of War are the breakers of seals and 
pledges they signed by hand ! 

For their glor3^'s scream is a gutteral croak, it is 
choked by carrion meat. 

And their nation's strength is sapped to the bone 
when it feeds on the husks of deceit. 

And War is naught but deceit! 



[Page Twenty-four 



An Apnfitrn^l)? to % f par IBIZ 



(§ 



MOTHER of Futures, O child of the Now, 

Born with the birth-mark of War on thy 
l)row. 
Nourished on Hate, and ambition's desire, 
Thy Godfather, Mars; thy baptism, Fire, 
Destined to mark on Eternit^^'s scroll 
A red written record unmatched b^^ the whole; 
Fated to bring Despair as a cloud, 
With Death in its mists that shall many enshroud. 
Purposed to shake the foundations of Earth, 
To unmake some nations that past years gave birth. 
Freighted with fears of the weak and the strong. 
Singer to be of aggrandizing song. 
Maker of men and despoiler of kings. 
Thy quick ears shall list to the bound underlings, 
Freedom for many shall ride in thy train 
Though Bigotry's curse shall its millions enchain. 
Thy dawning shall gleam with the East's yellow 

sun 
Proving Nippons and Manchus and Tatarics one; 
Thy stars mark the goals that Progress shall make 
When the king-ridden hordes shall from slumbers 

aw^ake, 

Page Twenty-five] 



Thy gifts thou Shalt pour in Humanity's lap, 
Thy Peace shall its mantle o'er multitudes wrap, 
Though darksome the potents of thy horescope, ' 
O Year of all years, thy Birthright is Hope. 



[Page Twenly-si> 



®l|e lSt0t0n 



Written February, 1916 



y:g2'IFTED of prophecy? — No, not I, 
\|a I only glimpse the future years 

Through eyes undimnied by falling tears 

These eyes not mine. 
I only see the cloudless sky 
With mellow blush of dawning Hope, 
The Future's kiss to those that ope 

The Door Divine. 

Who raised the veil? — I cannot tell; 
I only know I saw, and seeing wrote 
Not of the things mine eyes denote 

In worldly gaze. 
Not of the boundless realms where dwell 
The souls of millioned a^ons past. 
Not of the worlds in the ether vast, 

But coming days. 

Behold the truth ! I saw the Law, 
The Law of Retribution, held 
Like a flaming sword o'er the eagles felled 
To rise no more; 

Page Twenty-seven] 



I saw in the strength of the Lion's paw, 
I saw in the might of the stalking Bear, 
In the whelps and the cubs from the common lair 
The Law — the Door! 

I saw ere the moon had waned twice 

On the plains where the oriflamme of France 

Once flew for the Emperor of Chance 

And marked his path, 
The hosts of the West like a clenching vise 
Squeezing the hearts of the common blood 
And potting the soil with an iron flood 

In hellish wrath. 

While the winged man-birds and the vulture boats 
Perched on the rim of the weeping sky 
Dropped from the heights (nor questioned why) 

Death's blasting hail ! 
And I saw, like a cloud of mist that floats 
O'er raging streams, the spirit host 
Rise from the depths, — Oh, vain man's boast! 

For no avail. 

When the stinging wind and the clamor ceased, 
I saw where the black and gold had flown 
In the strength of might and proudest known, 

A broken line. 
And I saw the fear-filled mobs released 
And flee in the panic of retreat. 
While the victors marched with rhythmic feet. 



Their goal the Rhine! 



[Page Twenty-eight 



Then the seeing eyes viewed another sight, 
A caged fleet by the sea-gnats stung, 
A dying Emperor's heart, unwrung, 

But soon to be. 
For the driven mass and the slaves unite 
With a howling curse on the blasted dream, 
An empire built on a might supreme. 

Through Kultur free. 

I viewed the crescent minarets 

Once more replaced by the cross-crowned spires, 

But the Bear was shamed by his lust's desires. 

And hid his head. 
And the crowns of the East and the coronets 
Of the Western world were flung aside. 
For a God-sent Man in a serving pride 

Ruled all instead. 

Then my eyes looked toward the rising sun, 
And I laughed at the soulless, coward fear 
Of the simple folk who in trembling hear 

The yellow drum; 
For I saw through the ego lately won 
The honest heart of a new-born race. 
The cry of a nation seeking place 

Denied by some. 

With the waning strength of my vision now 
Bringing me back to the red-war scenes. 
Seeing yet clear through the year-mesh screens, 
I glimpsed a class 

Page Twenty-nine] 



Sensing the rights of its own, somehow 
Refusing to cringe to an age-old whip, 
Forcing the Bear to release its grip 
Through power enmasse. 

Ere my vision ceased, there came the thought 
No longer men are the dupes of kings, 
And titles now are empty things, 

Of power shorn. 
And then as my vision came to naught, 
But one thing was there left to see, 
A hand upraised against me. 

Yet overborne. 



[ Page Thirty 



ail|f fallout Qlloub 



A CLOUD, a yellow cloud, and deep and 
dense 
(Methought the farmer-gods burned saffron 
pitch 
Or damped the stubble from their garnered fields 
To smother flame, save for a breath to fan 
Their slow consuming fire). It rose. The sun, 
My laughing, joyous sun, that sang of Hope 
And gave me life, a poet's life — yea, more — 
Was lost to view and but for truant rays 
Tinged with a yellow cast, the day was done. 
And with a rush the winds of Heaven shook 
And swayed the giants of my little world, 
I thought them strong (I mean the oaks and 

pines 
My sires planted in the bygone 3^ears), 
Some fell, their roots exposed a worthless clay, 
But most stood firm, though beat by scourg- 
ing blasts 
And hissed by mocking Voices of the winds. 

And I — I was afraid. I looked, and lo ! 
In the blackening deeps of the cloud I saw 

Page Thirty-one] 



(As though I had gazed on a silvered glass 
That mirrored the deeds of a demon world) 
A picture of War! Men mounted and afoot, 
Guns, weltering steel, man's vulture -like 

planes, 
The gray of the froth-churning fleets of the 

sea, 
The eye of the seeing yet shadowless boat 
Still lying beneath the crests of the waves ; 
All this did I see, and more. In the west 
Leered a Mongol face with a jealous hate 
Expressed thereon. And then a shadow^ hand 
Wrote with a blood -dipped pen (a broken 

spear) 
These dismal words — " For you to come, for 

you! " 

I closed m^^ eyes, the Coward-thought had 

gripped 
And held me bound — and then, to view 

again 
I opened them. Behold ! That yellow cloud 
Had almost disappeared. Its fleeting fringe 
Formed on the blue of the heavenl^^ bowl 
As though it were writ by the Maker's hand, 
The one word "Fear." I knelt, and under- 
stood ; 
The sun drove off the winds. My little world 
Once more rejoiced; the fallen trees I left 
That I might be reminded of these truths : 



[Page Thirty-two 



Fear is a cloud, a shadow, seeming real. 
Portentous glooms give way to joyous suns, 
The winds of doubt can but uproot the 

weak ; 
No more I'll fear again. Fear is not real. 



Page Thirty -three] 



An ^miiM of Mml 



An handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse.'' 

— 1st Kings, 17:12. 



3 SAT in my cosy study with naught but the 
Hght from the log 
That burned on the hearth-stone ruddy, defy- 
ing the damp and the fog 
Of the out-doors' dark and gloom, 
And I heard the cold winds bluster as they swept 

from the Blue Hihs down, 
While the rain-drops gleamed with lustre like the 
jewels of a crown 
On the windows of my room. 

There I mused o'er a poet's yearnings, and I longed 

for a theme and song 
That, like the log in its burnings, would flout all 
the storms of Wrong 
And banish the glooms of pain ; 
When, up-startled quick, I listened to the moanings 

of the wind 
And saw where the window glistened, a picture, 
sharp defined 
In a globule of the rain. 

Page Thirty-five] 



Like a lens with its focal power reducing a mir- 
rored scene, 

That fleck of the whipping shower then thrown on 
my glazed screen 
Reflected a saddening sight, 

For my mind had a sensive coating, and the image 
transferred there 

Still lives in its confines, smoting and chiding me, 
whene'er 
My ease-fond heart sings light. 

'Twas a garret in the cit}^, one my pen could 
never draw. 

And my soul was filled with pity at the wretched- 
ness I saw. 
In no place mollified. 

There, a woman I saw, weeping, ^while around her 
on the floor 

Lay three little children, sleeping, rags their cover- 
let, no more. 
No warm fire I espied. 

Starved, the form that I saw bending o'er a cup- 
board, seeming bare, 

'Twas a picture most heart-rending, one of poverty 's 
despair. 
Foreign, even unto me. 

Roughened hands she w^rung in sorrow^ tears re- 
doubled in their flow 

[Page Thirly-si3{ 



As she thought of the to-morrow and of what it 
might bestow, 
Dark the potents, I could see. 

In the flickering lamp-Ught gleaming, I beheld an 

earthen crock, 
Which, though once with flour teeming, now a 
handful held, to mock 
And to jeer at falling tears. 
Then I thought of that old story, handed from the 

ages down. 
Of a prophet, old and hoary, of a widow in a town 
Gone for lo, these many years. 

And how God, through him, sustained her, though 

the meal and oil ran low. 
Through her faith, the scant remainder, never 
seemed to lesser grow 
All despite the common use. 
And I wondered if past ages were more favored by 

the Lord, 
If our griefs He still assuages, when His merc^^ is 
implored. 
If He still refills Life's cruse? 

While I mused, another falhng raindrop, merged in 

unison 
With the first, that scene appalling, was translated 

into one 
Filled with even greater shame, 

Page Thirty -seven] 



I beheld a battle raging, I could see the cannon's 

flash, 
And the smoke arose, presaging death to thousands 

in the clash, 
Hell-like seemed War's lurid flame. 

In the midst of that fierce battle, 'twixt both 

armies in a trench. 
Undisturbed by roar and rattle, minding not the 

rotting stench, 
Lay a soldier nigh to death, 
In his hand a picture showing wife and children 

counting three, 
Who, I could not help but knowing were the same 

that I did see, 
Rapt, I held my quickened breath. 

First, he gazed on it intentl\% wath a smile upon 
his face. 

To his lips he raised it gentl^^ then I saw the tear- 
drops race 
Down each blackened, smoke-stained cheek, 

And I saw his lips beseeching God Almighty them 
to spare. 

When a hurtled shell came screeching, falling clovse 
beside him there, 
Crazed by fear, I gave a shriek ! 

In my fright, I lost the setting of the picture in the 
rain, 

[Page Thirty-eight 



And my eyes were welled and wetting, for the tears 
knew no restrain, 
I had seen what War had wrought, 
And the darkening shadows lengthened, as the char- 
ring log low-burned, 
Though the blackened depths but strengthened all 
that plastic mind discerned. 
Coming, as it did, unsought. 

Then I looked for m3^ vision's meaning, for I knew 

that a lesson lay 
In these pictures for my gleaning, so I read what 

the prophets say, 
And this was revealed to me; 
If thou draw out thy soul's deep measure to the 

hungry, and satisfy need 
Of afflicted hearts with thy treasure, thy light 

shall the noon-day exceed 
And rise from obscurity.* 

And I read of the promise spoken, He wovdd widows 

and fatherless shield, 
For the handful of meal was a token of bushels 
His harvests should yield. 
And herein my lesson lay ; 
And I vowed that the poet's mission would hence- 
forth be, to bring 
A world of self-men to contrition, and teach of the 
jo3'S that spring 
From sharing our joys alway. 

* Isaiah 51t:10 
Page Thirty-nine] 



nt XB % ilait? 



/|j\H, show me the man who can luring the 

V!^ world 

Back, back to the paths of reason, 
Back, back to its normal season. 

Who will dare the Truth, though the bolts be 
hurled 
At him with the cries of "Treason," 
With the Poltroon cries of " Treason." 



Oh, show me the man wnth a soul so great 
That bleeds for each war-rift nation. 
Who strives for the defecation 

Of the sordid passions of lust and hate. 
The basis of War's causation. 
Of every War's causation. 

Oh, show me the man who can act the Christ 
In a time when Christ is forgotten. 
When the very earth is rotten 

With the wasted blood of the sacrificed. 
And Christ is a misbegotten, 
And scorned as a misbes^otten. 



Page Forty-one] 



Oh, show me the man that will lead the way, 
For him every heart is yearning. 
Great God! — is there no discerning 

Such a mighty soul in the world to-day ? 

Must we wait for the Christ's returning, 
For the Nazarene's returning? 



[Page Forty-two 



Nrr^flBtlij 



There was a Door to which I found no key"' 

The Kubaivat. 



I Had a Dream: 
TJfHERE was a Door to which I found no key, 
^^ 'Twas set within a cragged wall of black 

And seemingly inpenetrable rock, 
One graven word it bore, — "NECESSITY," 
I rapped, the hollow echoes answered back 
The feeble soundings of my futile knock. 

I pleaded, wept, and beat w4th bruised hands, 

Oh, many were the years I'd traveled far, 

A w^earied pilgrim seeking peaceful rest. 

My feet were sore from rugged mountain lands 

That I had climbed to view the glory Star 

Of Peace, that gleamed o'er realms of nations blest. 

To no avail were tears and pleading word, 
But, as the lightnings rift the lead-cloud sky 
And thunder shakes the trembling earth below, 
There came a flash, the boom of cannon stirred 
And shook the erstwhile silences on high, 
I heard the millioned dying shrieks of woe. 

Page Forly-three] 



Methought then, surely some would ope the door, 
To succor, cheer, and help a war-cursed race, 
**0, open Door," I prayed, — that prayer from me 
Was lost amidst the wails the sea-winds bore 
From drowning babes; — yet still flashed from its 

place 
That graven, coward word: — "NECESSITY." 

''O, Door," I cried, "Unyielding, base and cold, 
To what fell purpose art thy portals reared ? 
Who lives within the haunts thou guardest well?" 
And as I spake, before my eyes unrolled 
Another scene, — the door had disappeared; 
A Nation's heart, seared with the brand of Hell, — 
"NECESSITY." 



[Page Forty-four 



®^H^ Ufltofi af iMg *oul 



3 HEARD a song of rapturous tone and harmony 
divine 
Which burst within my soul to-day, such music 
ne'er was mine, 
It seemed to break the prison walls which bind and 

compass round 
My finite self, and all at once God's infinite I found. 

The blended notes of music rose and swelled until 

I thought 
My ears the golden harps and lutes of Paradise 

had caught, 
And like the mighty billows of the deep unfathomed 

sea 
They surged and rolled triumphant in majestic 

harmony. 

And for the once I grew afraid and cried aloud in 

fear, 
I questioned if the Master-Mind intended me to 

hear, 
I wondered if the slender cord which ties me 

down to earth 
Had parted strands; and I had gained a new and 

heavenly birth. 

Page Forty -five] 



As in a vision seemed to come from out the peopled 

air 
A shining form of beauty, pure, radiant and fair. 
And then I listed to a voice which bade my fears 

depart, 
So calm, so sweet, assuring me, that I at once took 

heart. 

And lo, it spake to me again and this is v^hat it 

said : 
"The music that's within thy soul is echoed from 

the dead 
Who died in strife betwixt the men and nations of 

the past 
And see the morrow bringing a joyful peace at 

last. 

They see the sword and bayonet once red with 

human gore 
Now beaten into plough-shares for the world know^s 

war no more. 
And they see the nations living in harmony as 

grand 
As the music of their voices, with peace in every 

land. 

As they contemplate the blessings which the future 

shall make knowai. 
When peace is all triumphant and the fear of war 

has flown, 

[Page Forty -six 



They sing aloud Hosannas to the Holy Trinity 
Which is to-day and yesterday and evermore 
shall be. 

Because thy heart's attuned in love unto thy fellow- 
man, 

Thou heard st their joyful music and bridged v^ith 
mighty span 

The distance 'tw^ixt the finite world and Heaven's 
border-land, 

Although of mortal clay thou art, thy soul doth 
understand." 

And saying thus the vision passed from out m)^ 

inner sight, 
The music ceased and all was still and quiet as the 

night. 
But ever shall its memory haunt, and I shall hear 

that song 
Until the day God calls me home and I shall pass 

along. 

But ere that time shall come to me, I trust that 

I shall learn 
The first few bars of that grand tune to teach the 

hearts that yearn 
And pray each day that Christ-like love shall on 

the earth increase 
To ope the eyes now blinded to a Universal Peace. 

Page Forty -seven] 



OIl|tttk nn lEmpir^a 



j|t|tANY'S the man who's fitted to lead 
jJKL Progression's van and empires build, 

Yet dribbles his time with things that 
impede 
And obstruct the things which might be fulfilled 

If he were but bold ; 
Many's the place which harbors the man 
Who's fit to be king, yet by reason of doubt 
Contented remains and does what he can 
In some petty place with peasants about, 

And rusts and grows old. 

Many's the man whose parish has claimed 
All of his might while the world waits and 

waits 
For someone like him w^ho can be inflamed 
With zeal for its needs and whose strength 
animates 

The dull, sluggish mass; 
Many's the place like Bethlehem small. 
Least in world-fame, yet is destined to bring 
From out of its midst a ruler of all, 
Crowned and acclaimed a Saviour and king, 

Too great for one class. 



Page Forty -nine] 



Many's the man and many's the place 

That needs to be roused to the things they 

can be, 
Many's the land and many's the race 
That offers a field for activity 
When once the3^ awake; 
If men will but think on empires grand 
Instead of on parishes petty and small, 
Their minds will mature and their souls will 

expand. 
And they will be ready to answer the call 
The Future shall make! 



[Page Fifty 



ail? Prarr of tl|e ^nn 

m 



##fUtlE offer you peace" — O, Heaven, look down 
The trenches are deep in France! 
Its ground is sodden with blood, 
And crepe is the symbol of Belgium's crown, 
Its honor is nailed with a lance, 
And its glory is trailed in the mud. 
The mud of the terrible Hun ! 

"We offer you peace'" — Such peace is a truce, 
Oh, trust not the word of the Hun, 
A lie unforgotten still stings! 

Men cannot forget the war-dogs let loose 

By the breaker of pledges; — the one 
Who laughed at the honor of kings, 

Himself the peace-breaking Hun ! 

The Devil mast heg for peace ! I 



Page Fifty-one] 



Watrli fflut, ® ^£mh o* miml 



^TfO-DAY for peace, — to-morrow, — wars, 
^/ God help To-morrow's child ! 

Prepare! The eagles bare their claws, 

The lion rages wild ; 
A blood-crazed race on Poland's soil 

Plas grappled with the bear. 
War's cauldron, hot, begins to boil, 

Why flout the signs? — Beware! 

The louring clouds loom where we stand, 

Death's guns reverberate 
And shake the hills on Freedom's land. 

Ambition precedes Hate! 
And monarchs wnth empire dreams. 

Cursed by ''King's rights divine," 
Have gauged thy strength within their 
schemes, 

Watch out, O land o' mine ! 



Page Fifty -three] 



M 



ili| (Ecuntru 



Country is the World — the whole round 

World ; 
I scorn the boundaries of State, 
I hate the narrowness of Hate, 
The Empire-dreams of Would-be-great, 
The cabined soul, the shallow pate 
Of one-land folk, I hate! — I hate! ! 

My Country is the World — the whole round World ; 
The soil, the mould-damp soil aw^akes 
The life in countless seeds, and makes 
An Eden of the blooms. The brakes 
That skirt the borders of the lakes 
Share in the life each bloom partakes. 

So I, a child of the whole round World, 

Share with the black in the tropic sun, 
With ni}' brother-man where the ice-vStreams 

run, 
The gifts of the Master-soul, begun 
Withi the breath called Life, that made ALL 

one, 
With the Love that drew from obHvion 
The World — MY Country. 

Page Fifty-five] 



®l|? g>kg is Auiakr! 



Suggested by a little child, who, seeing the first blush of the 
dawning day, awakens his mother with the cry, " Mamma, the 
skv is awake /" 



,UT of the mouths of babes come words with 
Ij-/ wisdom fraught, 

The eyes of a child have seen the hght of a 

dawning thought, 
The sky is awake, awake, and the beams of the 

rising suti 
Reveal on cerulean blue a Promised Day begun; 
A day when the hopes of men have fruited into 

life, 
A day when a brother's hand replaces a stranger's 

strife, 
A day when the tides of youth are impelled by an 

impulse strong 
To beach on a common shore the wreckages of 

Wrong, 
A day when the bonds of race, and the blood- 
marked bounds of State 
Are lost in the Heart of God and the Love that 

knows no hate! 

Page Fifty-seven] 



Oh, the sky is awake, awake, — rejoice O Soul of 

mine! 
And open thine eyes, my Heart, and welcome the 

glad sunshine, 
The sky is awake, awake, O World with your 

burdened care 
Rejoice with the poet's child o'er your Day of 

Promise fair 
And awake with the glory sky! 



[Page Fifty-eight 



Slie Infolitug Will 



3 SPAKE; Lo, my voice was heard in Cathay, 
Oh, strange are the deeds of men! 
A dream from the past fulfilled. 
And a voice called out from that Far-a-way 
And answered me again. 
Ere my own word-tones were stilled. 

Now the harnessed waves of the air-seas teem 
With the spoken thought of man, 
Oh, the great round world is small. 

No more shall men laugh at a poet's dream, 
Since Mind has bridged the span 
That has separated all. 

And I've dreamed of the time that shall surely come, 

Whether in my day or not, 

All despite the skeptic's doubt, 
When the ether space as a medium 

Will carry our earnest thought 

To the planets round about. 

And I've dreamed beside of a future year 

When the visions of men are keen, 
And Space shall its curtains raise, 

Page Fifty-nine] 



When the eye shall hold the far- friend near 
And the distant lands be seen, 
Yes, worlds by our finite gaze! 

If the iip-start clay hath dreamed and won 

Far more than mere dreams give rein, 
And the Earth holds secrets still. 

As sure as there's light in the constant vSun 
So sure shall all things be plain 
To man's dominating will. 



[Page Sixtj 



Sutlb nw a iCn&x^c 



'TJJUILD me a lodge in the mountain tops, 
jf^ Build 'midst the silences of night 

For me alone, 
Build where Hate's blistered War-gleaned crops 
Are lost in the intervals of sight, 

To me, not grown. 

Build me a lodge in the swaying pines. 
Build where the unchained north- wind blows 

For me a song, 
Build where the sin in my heart's confines 
Finds grave that is deep in the riven snow. 

Yea, deep and strong. 

Build me a lodge in the wilderness. 

Build where the birds of the morning come 

With pristine notes, 
Build near some cave-like rock recess. 
Some Nature-reared palladium 

That peace promotes. 

Buikl me a lodge 'midst the scraggy oaks. 
Build where the wind-swirled leaves are dead 
But not to me. 

Page Sixty-one] 



Build where each minute twig invokes 
The thought of the Cause in the overhead 
Infinity. 

Build me a lodge where the ages blend, 
Build where the yesteryears are one 

With present hours, 
Build me a lodge where the sky-deeps lend 
A glimpse of the endless All, begun 

Through Spirit powers. 



I Page Sixty-two 



3rur Patrinttfim 



NOT in the belching cannon's roar, 
Not in the piper's lay, 
Not in the flag which we adore, 

Nor yet in holiday; 
Not in the fulsome studied speech, 

Not in the pomp and show, 
Not in the rocket's sizzling screech. 

Nor in the fire's glow ; 
But in the heart, where doth abound 

A nobler, finer plan. 
Where Country's weal is the profound 

And holy love for man ; 
There is the future's heritage. 

There is our Country's hope, 
There doth the patriot's true gauge 

Confound the misanthrope. 



Page Sixty-three] 



Nn iEatt iCatti 



J 



'YE never been on No Man's Land, 
I've never crossed the sea, 
But Oh, I know that No Man's Land 
Holds treasures dear to me, 
I know that somewhere on its soil 

The richest jewels lie. 
And gold is there, -aye, gleaming gold 
For which men strive and die. 

I've heard men tell of No Man's Land, 

How jewels have been found 
By some of low estate, and some 

Of high, upon its ground. 
The jewels that I long for most. 

And gold 1 fain would gain, 
But poets write, and pens are weak, 

For them to wish is vain. 

I've asked the men from No Man's Land 
The names of jewels there, 

And what's the worth of yellow gold 
That lies abundant there. 

And this is what they've answered me. 
They spake with bated breath, 

Page Sixty -five] 



The jewels, "Courage, Honor, Hope, 
The price of gold is — Death." 

I cannot go to No Man's Land, 

But oh, my heart is there, 
I know what men have sacrificed 

To gain these treasures rare, 
My inner eyes can see their souls 

As shimmering mists of gold 
Kissed by the sun on No Man's Land, 

Their numbers are untold. 



[Page Sixty-six 



09 Haiiu of t\}t S'uniuB 



01 



^1 HERE'S only a line on the map of the land 
^ That separates you and me, 

O Lady of the Snows, 
One strain in our blood and one purpose in hand 
Whieh have drawn me close to thee ' 
And kinship's love bestows. 

One God and one hope, one aim and desire, 
Supreme in our libert^^ 

O Lady of the Snows, 
We're free from distrust and the rancorous fire 
Of hate and supremacy 

Which War and its litter knows. 

One Future secure b^^ the deeds of the past, 
One heritage, unexcelled, 

O Lady of the Snows, 
United by links which shall ever outlast 

Those w^hich Might's empires weld, 

And strengthened as time goes. 

There's only a line on the map of the land. 
No other disparity, 

O Lady of the Snows, 

Page Sixty-seven] 



Comes between you and me, and why should it stand 
To bar mutuality 

Where common welfare grows. 



[Page Sixty-eight 



Slip arauFst Mm 

/^OD! but it takes a man to stand 
\f^ Firm as a rock 'midst troubled seas 

When doubts assail on ev'ry hand, 
When friends depart and honor flees; 
When foes exult and cowards sneer, 
When soft-lived men deny and rail, 
And even fools at wivSe men leer, 
He is a man who does not quail. 

God ! but it takes a man to be 

Calm as the deep when torrents roar. 

When some loved soul proves Pharisee 

And passes by forevermore; 

When Povert^^ stalks grim, and rules 

Because of Principles, unshared, 

When W^rong, through precedent, befools, 

He is a man who stands declared. 

God ! but it takes a man who knows, 
And knowing, rights the age's wrong, 
Who stands alone and overthrows 
The moss-back doctrines of the throng; 
When Piety deplores his might, 
And lifts its hands to out-grown gods, 



Page Sixty-nine] 



When pulpits rage and proselyte, 
It takes a man to stand the odds. 

God ! but it takes a man who moves 
Straight to the line marked to the goal, 
When others follow time-worn grooves. 
When Custom's marks have seared the soul 
When others live in ease, and laugh 
The bravest man who dares, to scorn, 
When few will speak in Right's behalf. 
Then is the time when manhood's born! 



( Page Seventy 




JjpET the sun of Morning kiss it, let the Evening 
^y sunset glow 

With a warmth of love and gild it ere it sets 

in depths below, 
Let the winds caress and fold it, let the stars in 

glory shine 
On the emblem of (3ur Country, loved as your flag, 

loved as mine. 

Let the voices of our children sing the music of its 

soul, 
Chant its chorus O, ye people, till the mountain 

echoes roll, 
Sing and shout its hymn of Freedom, fling its spirit 

to the breeze 



Page Seventy -one] 



Till the notes are caught and answered in the 
hearts across the seas. 

Let no thought or deed unworthy smirch its stripes 

of purest white, 
Let no stain of craven silence rob its red of lustre 

bright, 
Let no shame bedim the star-shine on its field of 

heavenly blue. 
For it's OUR FLAG, friend, it's OUR FLAG; I'm 

proud of it; — are You? 



[Page Seventy-two 



